Mmmm – such a lovely point it was. ‘Well,’ Andrew smiled on his return with a bottle of Chianti and two glasses. ‘Are you going to spill your ...aucy beans?’ ‘No one could call me anything but corrupt,’ Clare giggled, ‘but I prefer to swallow, not spill.’ ‘I shall note that for later,’ he grinned. ‘Take me as I am or don’t take me at all.’ ‘At least you are honest about it,’ Andrew frowned and Clare responded by reaching across and touched his arm reassuringly. ‘Can I call you venal, sweetie?’. Here I was sitting at my desk looking a an innocuous video display with an enormous hardon sort of hidden beneath the table. (I must say, parenthetically, that my erection was hidden from the casual viewer, but Sandy was not a "casual viewer." To her, nothing about me was lost from her view, at least, I hoped.) Now I am no John Holmes, but with Sandy so close I sure felt I could give him a decent run for his money or whatever. The smile that crossed Sandy's lovely full and passionate lips. More

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